


The Long Arm of the Law

by cordelia_kingsbridge



Series: Boston Verse [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Bondage, College, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Handcuffs, Humiliation, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Minor Feminization, Prostitution Roleplay, Rough Sex, Safewords, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slut Shaming, Subspace, Uniform Kink, police kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordelia_kingsbridge/pseuds/cordelia_kingsbridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riley runs into Andres while he's on duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Arm of the Law

“So this basic bitch gets right up in my face, like I’m really going to throw down over some random that I met at a house party.” Brooke pushed back her tangled blonde hair as an icy gust off the Charles blew it into her eyes and mouth. “How the fuck was I supposed to know he had a girlfriend? _He_ hit on _me_!”

Riley snorted out a laugh, then shivered and shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. He and a few of his friends from the running club had decided to walk the course of the Head of the Charles Regatta, and though it was a lot of fun, he wished he’d thought to wear gloves.

“Anyway,” Brooke said, continuing her story as their group meandered their way through the crowds towards the Reunion Village at the race’s halfway point, “I’m like, bitch, why are you starting shit with _me_ when your boyfriend’s the one who’s shady as fuck? Bye, Felicia.”

“So you just walked away?” Christian asked. He was hot in a super-preppy New England way that called to mind country club clambakes, but unfortunately, he had no interest in cock.

“Well, I tried,” said Brooke, her tone becoming sheepish. “But the psycho grabbed my hair from behind, so I may have punched her in the face.”

Everyone exploded with laughter. “Laid her out on her ass, you mean,” Kayla said. She was the only one of them besides Brooke who had been there for the event.

“You do have an insane right hook,” Riley said. “You almost took my arm off at practice the other day when you were ‘congratulating’ me.”

“I did _not_.” Brooke drove her fist into Riley’s shoulder with slightly less force than a runaway train.

Riley exaggerated his stumble sideways, falling against Paige, who laughed and pushed him back upright. As they kept walking, they veered out of the way of two BPD officers coming down the path towards them, the instinct to avoid cops in full effect even when they weren’t doing anything wrong.

“Riley?” one of the cops said.

Riley stopped short, backed up a couple of steps, and did a double-take.

Oh, God.

The thing was, Riley had never had a kink for uniforms or institutionalized authority like some subs did. Knowing that Andres was a cop had never had any effect on him other than editing his references to his own underage partying, if only for plausible deniability on Andres’ part.

Except now he was standing face-to-face with Andres in full BPD uniform, and there was a good chance he was going to pass out right there on the sidewalk with all the blood rushing to his cock.

“Hey,” Andres said.

“Erk,” was all Riley could manage. His eyes swept Andres from head to foot – brimmed cap, a slice of a collared shirt and tie peeking above a dark navy all-weather jacket, sharply creased trousers, black leather boots polished to a high shine. Riley’s pulse leapt at the sight of Andres’ gun holstered on his equipment belt, and not from anxiety.

Yep, this was going to be a problem.

“Well, _hello_ , officers,” Brooke said, elbowing Riley’s side. Andres was trying not to smile and failing miserably, the handsome fucking asshole.

Riley had to say _something_. “I thought you worked in East Boston,” he said, which was… kind of rude, actually, but at least intelligible.

“I do,” said Andres, “but Singh and I volunteered some overtime for the Regatta security.” He gestured to his partner, an Indian woman with large dark eyes and black hair tucked up under her cap.

“Oh.” Reining himself in through sheer willpower, Riley said, “Guys, this is Andres – ah, Officer Cardona.”

“‘Andres’ is fine.” Andres shook hands all around and introduced his partner as Priya Singh.

“So how do you guys know each other?” Christian asked, all faux-innocence and completely ignoring the glare Riley sent him.

“We’ve run into each other a few times,” Andres said easily. “It was great meeting you all, but we really should keep moving. See you around, Riley.”

“Yeah, see you,” Riley said.

Andres and Singh went on their way, while Riley and his friends continued in the opposite direction. They’d barely gone ten feet when Brooke clutched Riley’s arm with both hands and said, “Oh my God oh my God oh my _God_!”

“Would you please chill?” Riley hissed under his breath. “He’s gonna hear you.”

“So how long have you been screwing Officer Broad Shoulders?” Paige asked.

“Why do you just assume that we’re…” Greeted by four pairs of raised eyebrows, Riley broke off in the middle of his sentence and sighed. “We’ve hooked up a few times. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big _deal_?” Brooke said. “That was literally the most attractive human male I’ve ever seen in real life. I mean, no offense, Christian – ”

“Um, none taken?”

“ – and Riley, you’re more beautiful than handsome, you know, you’ve got that whole kind of androgynous thing going on that really works for you – ”

Though Riley rolled his eyes, he was flattered rather than insulted.

“ – but that was 100% USDA prime beefcake,” Brooke concluded with a dramatic flourish. “Seriously, did you see the _jaw_ on that guy? Jesus Christ.”

“Not to mention he’s a cop,” said Kayla, dodging out of the way of an oncoming stroller. “Bonus.”

“Yeah, he’s a cop who’s twice your size and looks like he could bench-press a small car,” Christian said to Riley. “Doesn’t that freak you out?”

“Nope.”

Paige bumped her shoulder against Riley’s. “Forget about his muscles; I want to hear about his cock. Is it as big as I think it is?”

“Wow, we’re not talking about this,” Riley said, tucking his chin into the collar of his jacket to hide his flushing cheeks. He wasn’t sure why he was so flustered; he usually enjoyed discussing his hookups. It was just… Andres was older, and a cop, and considering what they’d done together, gossiping about him felt disrespectful.

Never one to miss a trick, Brooke said, “Look at that blush! Oh God, he’s probably got some kind of thick meaty nine-incher – ”

Riley couldn’t hide his reaction to that, and the three girls dissolved into giggles. Christian alone was unamused.

“And you let him put it up your _ass_?” he said, appalled.

Riley didn’t question why Christian assumed that he was a bottom. People always did – and hey, they weren’t wrong. Instead, he seized the opportunity to send the conversation in a different direction and said, “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Anal sex isn’t just for gay guys, you know. You should ask your girlfriend to get a strap-on.”

This left Christian spluttering. “What? No way!”

“Well, you don’t _start_ with a strap-on, for fuck’s sake,” said Brooke. “You start out with a finger. Hasn’t she ever slipped you one while she’s giving you head?”

“No!”

Jumping on the new topic, Paige said, “You should try it. The last time I did that to a guy, he couldn’t walk for like five minutes after he came.”

As the girls descended into a lively debate about the merits of prostate stimulation with Christian listening in horrified fascination, Riley breathed a sigh of relief and concentrated on willing away the semi he’d been sporting since he’d first glimpsed Andres in his uniform.

* * *

“Ugh, fuck,” Riley said, grimacing as his Maserati spun out around the corner and slammed into the track wall, exploding in a dramatic plume of smoke and flames. Beside him on the couch, Amir whooped and blasted on down the track towards the finish line. 

“You’re seriously off your game today, bro,” Tim said. He held out his hand and made a _gimme_ gesture.

“I think I still have frostbite.” Riley tossed Tim the Xbox controller, took his bowl of popcorn, and traded seats with him, settling into the battered armchair beside the couch. Their fourth suitemate, Jordan, sat in the chair on Amir’s other side with his laptop on his knees, splitting his attention between his English paper and the game while he awaited his own turn.

“It’s not even that cold out,” Amir said, with all the disdain of a person born and raised in Minnesota.

“Tell that to my frozen fingers.”

Riley dug into the popcorn, watching Amir and Tim choose new cars and reset the race. He scooped up a fresh handful, waited until Tim was coming up on the tail of a tight pack of cars, and threw the popcorn at Tim’s side of the splitscreen.

“Hah!” Tim crowed, expertly navigating through the cars despite the distraction. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, little man.”

“I’m _five-eight_ ,” said Riley. “That’s not even short. It’s a totally normal height for a half-Korean male.”

“Yeah, but your waist is smaller than my girlfriend’s,” Jordan said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop. “And she’s super into Pilates and shit.”

Shooting Jordan’s midsection a pointed glance, Riley said, “Maybe _you_ should try Pilates.”

Jordan was in perfect shape, of course, or Riley wouldn’t have said it, but Tim and Amir _oohed_ regardless. Jordan flipped Riley the finger. Grinning, Riley settled in his chair and tossed back some more popcorn.

His phone chimed, and Riley shifted to the side, wiping his salty hand off on his jeans before pulling his phone out of his pocket. His pulse jumped when he saw the text was from Andres even before he’d read it.

_Just finished my shift. Can I come over?_

“Hey, Tim,” Riley said, striving and failing for a casual tone. “Do you mind if I have a guy to the room for a little bit?”

Riveted to the game, Tim said, “Nah, man, you do you.” Then, as Amir deliberately sideswiped him, he yelled, “Fuck you, asshole!”

Riley looked down at his phone, still hesitant. When he’d filled out his housing placement form, he’d stressed that he was openly gay and needed roommates who wouldn’t harass him about it. Then he’d contacted all three guys over the summer and subtly felt them out, reassuring himself that they weren’t going to give him a hard time. He hadn’t had problems with any of them so far, but he also had never hooked up with a guy in the dorm while any of them were home. Was that maybe pushing things too far?

Well, fuck them if it was. They’d all had girls over before. This shouldn’t be any different.

_Sure_ , he texted Andres. _Let me know when you’re here so I can come down and let you in_.

Riley spent the next twenty minutes on pins and needles, pretending to watch his suitemates play and waving off his own turn when it came around again. By the time Andres texted him that he was downstairs, Riley was so wound up that the chime of his cell phone almost sent him off the chair.

“Be right back,” he said, hurrying out of the suite. He leapt down the stairs two at a time, swung open the exterior door nearest the stairwell, and froze.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to change,” Andres said. He was still wearing that entire fucking uniform, though he had his cap tucked underneath one arm. Students crossing through the Yard kept glancing his way, their reactions ranging from confusion to anxiety to outright lust.

“Oh, God.” Riley stared helplessly. Didn’t have time to change, his ass. They hadn’t made plans, and Andres hadn’t told Riley he’d be here at any particular time. The fucking shit.

When a few moments passed with neither of them moving, Andres raised his eyebrows and said, “Can I come in? It’s kind of cold out here.”

“Um, yeah. Sorry.” Riley stood aside, letting Andres into the building, and gestured to the stairwell. “It’s just one flight up.”

Riley was hyperconscious of Andres’ eyes on his back and ass as they climbed the stairs, but Andres didn’t touch him. He’d left the door to the suite half-open; laughter and cursing and howls of triumph spilled into the hall. The second Riley and Andres stepped inside, though, all three of his suitemates went dead silent and wide-eyed. Jordan casually kicked over a bag of chips on the coffee table so that it fell on top of a baggie of pot and rolling papers.

Judging by the crinkling of Andres’ eyes, he’d already noticed. “At ease, guys. I’m off-duty, not to mention way outside my jurisdiction.”

“My room’s over here,” Riley said, grabbing Andres’ arm and tugging him along. He shut the bedroom door behind them and banged his head once against the door as he heard his suitemates explode into frantic whispering out in the common room. Rounding on Andres, he gestured to his uniform and said, “Seriously?”

Andres grinned. “I guess your roommates don’t feel the same way about cops that you do. How is it that I’m just finding this out now?”

“I _don’t_ – ” Riley realized he was staring at Andres’ chest again and shook his head, raising his eyes to Andres’ face. “I’ve never had a thing for cops.”

“So, what, it’s just me?” Andres took a step closer to Riley, all creaking leather and jangling metal.

Riley shrugged, and Andres’ smile grew wider.

“When I saw that look in your eyes when we ran into each other, all I wanted to do was throw you on your knees right there on the sidewalk and shove my cock down your throat in front of everyone,” he said.

Riley’s throat made a dry clicking noise. He reached behind himself to steady one hand against his bedframe.

Eyes intent on Riley’s, Andres stripped off his black leather gloves and dropped them on Riley’s desk chair, then shrugged out of his jacket, leaving himself in his long-sleeved shirt and tie. He opened his mouth.

“Green,” Riley said, before Andres could even get the question out. He cringed with embarrassment, but Andres just nodded, unsnapping his holster and drawing his gun. After ejecting the magazine, Andres turned around to set both pieces on the bureau on Tim’s side of the room.

When he turned back, he had his Dom face on, his uniform enhancing it by orders of magnitude. Riley backed up and bumped into the bed, which was raised off the ground to allow for storage space underneath. The edge caught him just below the hips.

“Turn around,” Andres said, calm and authoritative.

Lifting his chin, Riley said, “Fuck you. You can’t tell me what to do. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Andres grabbed Riley and spun him around, shoving him face-first over the side of the bed. When Riley tried to push up on his hands, Andres slammed him right back down, then grabbed Riley’s wrists and held them at the small of his back.

“Is that right?” Andres said, mocking now. “What are you gonna do about it, huh? Fight me? I’d like to see that.”

Riley yanked against Andres’ grip, his arousal ratcheting up a notch every time Andres thwarted his attempts to free himself. “Get off me,” he said. “You can’t do this.” He kept his voice and struggles quiet, because if Tim and the others overheard, they’d think Andres really was attacking him and intervene. At least, Riley would hope that would be their reaction.

“No? Looks to me like I can.”

Riley heard a soft jingle, and then cool metal snapped shut around each of his wrists in turn. Handcuffs.

His knees weakening, Riley shuddered and pressed his face into the mattress to muffle his moan. Those were genuine police handcuffs Andres had him in, not bondage toys with a safety thumb release. Andres had probably used them to restrain actual criminals.

“Spread your legs,” said Andres.

Rather than obey, Riley kicked one foot backwards. Andres evaded him and gave Riley a kick of his own, knocking Riley’s legs so wide apart that he would have fallen if he hadn’t been supporting most of his weight on his chest.

“This should be a familiar position for you.” Andres held Riley against the bed with one hand and groped his ass with the other, the touch greedy and intrusive. “You think I don’t know what you were doing in the city today?”

“I was just walking,” Riley said. He pushed his ass harder against Andres’ hand under the pretense of trying to wriggle away.

“Just walking? In jeans this tight, with an ass like yours?” Andres gave the ass in question a quiet smack. “Don’t lie to me. You were out cruising for customers.”

Riley blinked, confused, and then groaned as he realized what Andres meant. “No, I’m not… I’m not a whore,” he said breathlessly, arching his back.

Andres snorted. “I’ve heard that one before.” He tugged hard on the chain connecting the handcuffs, dragging a mewl from Riley’s throat, and reached around to fondle Riley’s swollen cock through his jeans. Once he had Riley squirming and panting, Andres unzipped him and pulled Riley’s jeans and underwear down below his ass. “Let’s just take a look.”

“Don’t,” Riley said as Andres spread his ass open.

“Not a whore, huh?” said Andres. He squeezed Riley’s ass, strong fingers digging into the flesh. “That’s a slutty little cunt if I’ve ever seen one.”

Andres spat on Riley’s ass, the wetness trickling between his cheeks and over his hole. Riley closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, too turned on to come up with a response. His exposed hole ached with need.

“Guess I’d better take you in for this,” Andres said, one thumb massaging Riley’s hole. “We can’t have pretty little rentboys trolling the streets for cock in broad daylight.”

Riley licked his lips, rallying what attitude remained beneath the warm fuzzy blanket of subspace wrapping around his brain. If he really were a hooker who’d been handcuffed and stripped by a dirty cop, what would he say? “You can’t prove anything.”

“One look at this pussy is all the proof anyone would need.” Andres pressed his thumb harder against Riley, laughing when Riley’s hole rippled and flexed beneath the pressure. “Regular boys aren’t this desperate to have something shoved up their ass, you know.” He released Riley’s ass and draped his large body forward over Riley’s back, trapping Riley’s bound arms beneath his bulk as he set his lips beside Riley’s ear and whispered, “So if you don’t want an arrest record, I guess I’ll just help myself to a freebie.”

“Oh,” Riley said, more a heavy exhalation than an actual word.

Andres kissed him – wet, open-mouthed kisses that traveled over Riley’s throat and nape, making his skin tingle all over. His equipment belt pressed into Riley’s back, creaking with every shift in movement; his huge erection rested against the curve of Riley’s ass, hot even through the fabric of his uniform.

“Lube,” Andres said.

“Top drawer.”

Andres lifted himself off Riley and turned aside to open the drawer of the bureau beside Riley’s bed. Taking advantage of his distraction, Riley pushed himself upright – but Andres planted a hand in the center of Riley’s back and shoved him flat again, without ever looking away from what he was doing. Riley whimpered and canted his hips up.

“Here we go,” said Andres, tossing the bottle of lube and a box of condoms next to Riley. He used the weight of his lower body to keep Riley pinned to the bed while he lubed up his fingers. “You gonna cooperate now?”

“No,” Riley said, and true to his word, he resumed his struggles the moment Andres’ finger breached him. He thrashed and writhed, which had the pleasant side effect of rubbing his cock against the edge of the mattress, and swung his hips from side to side as if trying to dislodge Andres’ fingers when he was really just trying to get them up against his prostate.

Andres responded to Riley’s resistance with brutal aggression, fingering him savagely, slapping Riley’s ass and thighs with his free hand, mocking him for being such a desperate little whore. The handcuffs were unforgiving around Riley’s wrists, and every futile tug against them revved Riley up further. When Andres finally deigned to attend to Riley’s prostate, he got so rough that Riley had to bite down on his comforter so his screams of pleasure wouldn’t alarm his roommates.

Riley was already on the cusp of orgasm by the time Andres withdrew his fingers and rolled on a condom. Caught up in the game and burning with excitement, Riley continued twisting, struggling, fighting against Andres as Andres took hold of his hips.

“Yellow,” Andres said, rucking Riley’s shirt halfway up his back and rubbing soothing hands up and down his sides. “I need you to relax for a minute, baby, or it’s gonna hurt when I go in.”

Riley whined his objection, shoving his hips back against Andres’. He _wanted_ it to hurt, wanted Andres to split him open and fuck his brains out like the slut he was –

Andres gently squeezed Riley’s waist and stroked his back, making quiet shushing noises. The touch was grounding, a solid foothold in the midst of Riley’s frantic need, and Riley’s breathing slowed. He clenched his fingers open and shut, concentrating on those hands. Andres’ cock was no joke; an average guy might be able to just slam inside Riley’s struggling body without consequences, but Andres couldn’t. As much as Riley might believe he wanted that right now, he’d be singing a different tune when the endorphin rush wore off.

“Good boy,” Andres said once Riley had calmed down a bit. He lined up his cock and eased inside with slow, careful thrusts. “That’s it. You’re taking it so well, baby. Look at that pussy just swallowing me up. Fuck.”

Riley moaned, bearing down against the penetration, shifting his hips to take Andres’ thick cock even deeper. When he’d adjusted enough that Andres was able to slide easily in and out a few times, Andres leaned forward over Riley’s back again.

“You’re gonna get it now, bitch,” he snarled.

Riley’s eyelids fluttered. “Yeah, right,” he said, with as much derision as he could muster.

Andres’ first thrust made Riley squeal; his second drove the air out of Riley’s lungs altogether, and Riley never truly recovered after that. Andres fisted one hand in Riley’s hair and the other in the chain of the handcuffs, using them as leverage to pound Riley’s ass like he’d been deprived of sex for months. Riley gasped open-mouthed into the comforter, his mind wiped entirely blank.

God, could his roommates hear them? They weren’t being particularly quiet – the meaty slap of flesh-on-flesh, Andres’ harsh, grunting breaths, Riley’s own choked cries. What if they walked in on them? Riley was handcuffed and bent over his own bed, getting his ass viciously reamed out by a cop in full uniform –

Riley hunched his hips, humping his cock against the mattress without a single ounce of shame in his body. A sobbing wail built in his throat, and he wasn’t, he couldn’t –

“Andres,” he said, desperate, “please, I need… I need…”

Andres released Riley’s hair and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Riley’s scream burst forth, safely muffled by Andres’ broad palm, as his body jerked and shook and he came all over his stomach. Cursing in Spanish, Andres plastered Riley’s body to the bed from thighs to shoulders, holding him there to take the last few frantic thrusts before he came himself.

Sagging against Riley’s back, Andres let go of his mouth. Riley stretched his jaw, but he wasn’t uncomfortable; Andres hadn’t been holding his face tightly, and his hand had never come anywhere near Riley’s nose.

“You all right?” Andres asked as he levered himself upright and pulled out, removing the condom.

“Mmm-hmm,” Riley said, dazedly taking stock. “I don’t think I can stand, though.”

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” Unlocking the handcuffs, Andres added, “I cannot emphasize enough how much I’m not supposed to use these this way.”

Remaining slumped over the edge of the bed, Riley pulled his aching arms in front of himself and rubbed his wrists. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Andres helped Riley pull up his jeans and underwear, then boosted him up onto the bed so he could lay down. Riley rested on his side and watched Andres grab a few tissues from the desk to wipe Riley’s come off the bedspread.

Though Riley expected him to just grab his stuff and go, Andres surprised him by removing his equipment belt and kicking off his shoes instead. Loosening his tie, he climbed up next to Riley. The narrow dorm mattress wasn’t really big enough for Andres alone, let alone the both of them, but Andres compensated for that by stretching out on his back and pulling Riley atop himself, with their legs tangled together and Riley’s head tucked underneath his chin.

Riley burrowed his face into Andres’ neck and curled his fingers in Andres’ shirt. Andres settled his hands on Riley’s ass, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“I shouldn’t have put a hand over your mouth when we don’t have a non-verbal safe signal,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I felt completely safe.”

“Still, we should set one up – ”

Riley made a disgruntled noise. “Not right now. Now is for sleeping.”

Andres’ laugh ruffled Riley’s hair. He pushed a hand underneath Riley’s shirt, stroking up and down his spine, and Riley closed his eyes with a quiet, contented hum. He wouldn’t let himself fall asleep all the way, but a light doze while he basked in the afterglow wouldn’t hurt.

“I’m glad I ran into you today,” Andres said after a while.

Riley smiled against Andres’ warm skin. “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This will be the last update to the Boston-verse for a while, as I'll be starting my new novel-length work in progress, _From the Ashes_ , this coming Saturday. Keep an eye on my AO3 account or follow me on [tumblr](http://ckingsbridge.tumblr.com) for news and updates!


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